18 Dawn

I can feel him standing above me, and if it is who I think it is, he is back early.

"You are blocking my sun," I joke.

"Excuse me, Princess." It is his voice, and I feel the sun blaring back as he moves away. "Didn't realise you needed a tan so much. I think you look more than fine."

I shake my head, covering my eyes as I crack them open. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. It's really hot."

"It's the Glade." He grunts as he lies down next to me.

Minho always says silly quips like that. As if everything here is self-explanatory. It mostly is, but I'm too lazy to actually go looking for any answers. It doesn't really matter. What matters is being here, and experiencing it all.

Like lying down in the grass an hour before the sun sets, next to a boy who has freedom pulsing through his veins but doesn't even recognise it. Every part of my skin craves the feeling of liberty inside me and I know if I fight for it, it will be mine.

However, I like things to come to me and not vice versa. I'm not the kind of person to grind up my sleeves and put in the work to get anything done.

"You're back early," I note.

When I peek out the corner of my eye, I realise he is staring at me. My eyes flick up to his and I watch him try and find something to stare at in the clouds. The chuckle that comes out my throat is mostly involuntary, but that doesn't make it unwelcome.

"Yeah," he says. "Thought I would skip out on the rest of the running. Figured I'd come see you."

I roll my eyes, so he turns his head. It's golden hour, so they everything is beautiful The sun sits on his skin, pushing off in waves and waves distracting me.

"What?" He asks. "You can't stop staring at me either."

"It's cause your face looks shucked up," I tell him, smiling. "I'm trying to decide if you got punched too hard or if you were born that way."

He laughs, looking down at his hands. He seems content with this answer. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck, before it settles back down against the ground.

"I'm not early," he offers, looking down at his hands. "We're supposed to be back an hour before the Doors close."

"The Doors close in two hours." I lie, a smirk on my lips.

He stares at me. "No way it's six. It's at least 7 by now."

I shake my head. "You'd be wrong to think that."

He lifts his watch up to his face, and I quickly knock it aside. He raises an eyebrow at me, before raising up the watch. In a quick flash, I knock his arm down again. He laughs, biting his lip before glaring me down.

"So this is what we're doing?" He feigns being offended, and I can only shake my head.

"Yeah, this is what we are doing."

His arm flies up, and I push on it with my fingers. His free hand grabs me by the wrist, and drags me up over top of him. He reaches his arm far out to the side, and I hold on to the watch as tightly as I can, so he can't see it.

"I hope you know how stubborn you are being." He grunts, but I know he doesn't really think I'm stubborn. "You're such a slinthead."

"Why don't you just trust me with the time?" I laugh back.

He drops me, but I continue to cover the face of his watch, leaning up above his body to have my hand on his wrist.

"Because you are lying." He emphasizes the word as if I hadn't realised I wasn't telling the truth.

I roll my eyes, but a smirk plays on my lips. "I never lie."

"No?" He asks, sitting up.

I stumble off of him, so that I sit up next to him as well. Just to the left, and so close that are hips are touching. Neither of us moves, and I watch him glance up from his lap up to my eyes.

There is nothing from before that I remember, although there are little bits of information that seep through now and again. I remember that before, people hated brown eyes. Often thought dull and ugly, blue and green were much preferred. My eyes are one of the two; I never took the time to actually decipher which since I never particularly cared.

Here, I've decided everybody had been wrong. There are no eyes prettier than the darkest of browns. So dark they look like the colour of the night sky, of secrets and of dreams. His eyes don't shine, they absorb. They swallow up everything in this Glade, which means both the good and the bad, until there is nothing left but him and I.

"No." The word comes out as the wind would, much less like a sound and more like the echo of one.

I can see us blinking together, and breathing together. As the time grew, we were swallowed by the shadow of the trees next to us. Here in the shade, I can't help but think of his eyes.

"Really now?" He asks. His breath is shallow, and his eyes are only open a sliver.

"Really," I can't find myself speaking anymore words. My heart is racing. His face is so close to mine.

He leans in, but so do I, and suddenly are lips are on each other. His are strong, and firm, pressing tightly against mine. As far as I can remember, this is the first time I have ever kissed someone. A boy who I barely know, and who barely knows me, hidden in a corner of the Glade where no one will find us.

My arms snake up and around his face, until I am cupping his neck in my hands. His skin is tough too, like his lips, almost callused from being out in the sun. The harshness hasn't reached my skin since it is so new to the light, making us the same in all the ways that matter, and opposite in all the ways that don't. He is an adventure, while I am trapped here. I longed to touch the sky, and I found the stars in his lips.

He grabs me at the base of my neck and around my waist as he pulls me in tightly.

We know nothing about each other, except this moment. However, I doubt we know anything about ourselves anyway. I would not have this taste of fresh air any other way. This is exactly how I wanted it to be. It is entirely perfect.

I can hear him breathing, but I can also here myself breathing, as I reach forward and tug at his shirt. Trying to press myself into him, I wish for us to become one. Because what else is there, except him, and I, and this moment?

"Shuck."

I pull away, spinning my head to see Leo rounding up to us, behind a livestock pen. We were hidden from eyes, and as I look around only Leo has seen us stuck together.

"Oh shuck." She repeats.

I glance over to see Minho, his chest heaving and his eyes glancing at me out of the corner of them. When we broke apart, he shot a few feet away from me, further towards the forest.

This is not good. We've been caught.

"You found them." Newt jogs up, limping after Leo.

He glances at the two of us in the shade, as he furrows his brow. A laugh escapes his lips in one quick breath before he turns to Leo.

"What are you waiting for?"

Neither Minho nor I say anything, and I watch him look up to Leo, begging her silently to not tell Newt. Last time I spoke with the boy, Newt made it very adamant no Gladers were to touch each other. I don't exactly feel like getting on Newt's bad side either, and I don't remember the consequences for breaking Alby's rule.

"Nothing," Leo answers.

I can almost see the tension that fills Minho's skin seep out on to the ground.

"What's going on?" He asks, trying to stay calm, but I can hear the quake that began his sentence.

"Michelle is in the Slammer," Newt answers.

Again? She can't manage to stay out of trouble, can she? Yesterday we said we would wait out confronting Alby until at least a week into our stay. We've only been here five days, can't she handle herself for that long?

"Why?" Minho demands.

"Destruction of property, theft, violent acts," Leo lists.

"It's a load of klunk," Newt elaborates, "and the Doors close in forty-five minutes. We lost for a banishing by two votes."

"Two?" Minho says. "Why wasn't I there?"

"We couldn't find you," Newt says. "But if we are going to stop it, we've got to go now."

Minho gets up on his feet, looking back at me once, before jogging off. When he glances at me, his eyes shine for half a second and he grins.

I let a smile play on my cheeks as well, watching as he walks off.

Leo walks over to me, glancing down on me from below. I can see her fingers tightening and shaking in her fists.

"What's your damage?" I ask, grabbing at her hand and trying to pull her down next to me. "Relax."

She raises her eyes wide, with her eyebrows raised even higher as she bites down on the inside of her cheek. I tug at her hand once more before she rips it out of my grasp.

"Relax?" She repeats, shocked to say the least, but also completely flustered. She isn't angry at all, she just seems completely exhausted.

"Michelle will be fine." I sigh, even though I am not sure if it is true or not.

She furrows her brow, shaking her head at me. "She is being banished. Dawn, they are killing her."

Right, that is what the banishing is. That is the punishment for breaking Alby's rule. If Leo says anything, I'm going to be dead by the morning.

"The little girl had a seizure, and who knows if she is alright, and you have been doing whatever it is you are doing with the Keeper of the Runners!" Leo exclaims.

I stand up, taking a hold of her hands and pulling her into a hug. For some reason she feels responsible for this. I do feel bad for Curly, I really do, but Michelle brought this on herself. Leo can't blame herself for Michelle's choices.

"It'll be fine, honestly." She can't see me shaking my head over her shoulder, but I don't know what else to do at this point.

She pulls back from me, shaking her head. "No, it really isn't."

~~~~~~~~~

I enjoy misery and suffering!!!!

Who do you most agree with at this point? Michelle is decently angry she is being jailed, and convinced there is a conspiracry against her. Dawn doesn't think any of it is a big deal, neither the kiss nor the seizure nor the arrest. And poor Leo, everything seems to be crumbling around her.

Also, that kiss??? I love Minho and Dawn? And like, I'm writing a love story that is happy? What? Let me know if you agree???

Just freak out (but like calmly), until Thursday.